


Plotted Acts of Kindness

by DreamingAngelWolf



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky being stupid, Darcy trying to make him see, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Self-Loathing, WinterShock - Freeform, and no that is not 'Winter's ass', but I prefer Wintersass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1240531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingAngelWolf/pseuds/DreamingAngelWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of an unexpected attack on Steve Rogers by the Winter Soldier, Darcy tries to convince Bucky he's still the man she loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plotted Acts of Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> Darcy/Bucky fic no. 2 today. I actually finished this way before the idea for ['Stop My Heart'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1239025) even entered my head, but it needed more editing and looking over, hence I'm only putting it up now. Why the sudden Wintershock (Wintersass) surge? Because I was trying to write the next part of ['When Winter Strikes'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/881881/chapters/1698016) and got worried that my Darcy wasn't being very Darcy-like, and needed to write her in something completely Marvel-centric as an exercise of sorts. But who knows - maybe this'll become a more permanent thing... ;-)
> 
> Warnings for Bucky being stupidly angsty/self-loathing and Darcy's Taser being hidden... where it's hidden.

Two days, eight hours and thirty-four minutes after James Barnes was incarcerated, Darcy Lewis finally persuaded Phil Coulson to let her see him. It took a lot of promises – most of which she intended to at least try and keep – and some near-grovelling on her part, but Coulson could be counted on to understand the feelings of the organisation’s members better than most at S.H.I.E.L.D. That, and she doubted he could resist the opportunity to grind Fury’s gears a little ever since Tahiti (which must never be spoken of in public. Ever). One would expect her to be excited – relieved, even – about having the chance to see her knight in partially-shining armour again, but as she followed Coulson into the cell block Darcy’s stomach was alight with butterflies. They stopped before a large viewing window, and those butterflies promptly died. 

Her Bucky was sat against the wall near his bed in nothing but a loose t-shirt and sweats, one-armed, chains between wrist and ankles. The harsh cell lighting made the shadows on his face stand out and his skin appear paler than she was used to, and his hair was unkempt, his eyes half-lidded. He didn’t acknowledge their presence at the window, nor did he react when Coulson spoke into an intercom, saying “People coming in, Barnes; you know the drill.” He stood with the weary grace of a born and bred assassin, but the way he shuffled to the corner of the room scared Darcy far worse. The empty left sleeve was a beacon drawing the eye. 

Once he was in position the guards let her in. She took a few paces inside, stopping to turn and glare at the two men who had followed her until they backed out, leaving just the two of them. The door hissed shut. Automatically, Bucky turned round, head bowed, and made his way towards the middle of the room; it took him nine paces to realise who had entered, one second for the shock and horror to freeze on his face. “Darcy?” 

Darcy smiled. “Hey Hot Stuff.” 

He remained rooted to the spot, blinking. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to see you,” she answered slowly. 

“Why?” 

So surprised was she that coming up with a response took some effort. “Why the hell wouldn’t I?” 

“Because I’m dangerous.” 

“Yeah, pretty sure I already knew that.” 

“I could kill you.” 

“Could, yes. Would? Doubt it.” 

“This isn’t a joke.” 

“I’m not joking.” 

“Darcy –” 

“Bucky –” 

“Stop it!” he shouted, making her jump. “Just… stop that.” 

Darcy frowned. “Stop what?” Taking a step forward only made him take two backwards. She couldn’t identify the look in his eyes. She didn’t want to. “Bucky…?” 

“Stop acting like you believe I won’t hurt you.” 

All Darcy could do was stare at him. “‘Acting’?” she echoed. “You think I’m ‘acting’?” She took a few more paces forward in a surge of anger, and Bucky backed up until he was pressed to the wall, hand outstretched to stay her. “Okay, let’s get a couple of things straight here: number one, I am a terrible actress when it comes to you, and you know it; number two, what I can’t believe is that you think I’d lie to your face about this… this FUBAR situation; and number three, the fact that you’re so goddamn sure you’re gonna hurt me actually hurts me!” 

Bucky swallowed. “Guess I was right, then.” 

She resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “No! No you are not right –” 

“Aren’t I?” he interrupted quietly. “You just admitted that I hurt you.” 

“Not physically!” 

“Did I ever say physically?” When it appeared Darcy was truly lost for words, he carried on. “I made a similar promise to Steve when we were kids, y’know. Said I’d always look out for him, always be on his side. In the last two years I’ve broken that promise more than enough times.” 

“Twice, and it was the Russians –” 

“I should’ve stopped them! And I should’ve been able to stop myself.” 

“You did,” she insisted. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, stopped the Winter Soldier from killing your best friend. Both times.” He looked unconvinced, and she stepped forward again. “This was just a blip, Bucky. Your duct tape coming a little loose. It’s an easy fix, you just have –” 

“If it was an ‘easy fix’ it would’ve been sorted out by the Tesseract.” 

“You don’t know that. Look, S.H.I.E.L.D knows people who can help fix you up properly – ‘brain-tape specialists’.” 

“No,” Bucky said adamantly. “I know what happens when you let people poke around in your head.” His eyes darted over her shoulder. “Least of all S.H.I.E.L.D. I’ve been to Tahiti. It’s not that magical.” 

Darcy refrained from turning round to check Coulson’s reaction, taking a steady breath and meeting Bucky’s frightened stare as openly as she could. “You need to let somebody help you, Bucky.” 

He laughed, slightly unhinged, the sound making her stomach knot. “Think I don’t know that?” he gasped. “I attacked my best friend and came within a hair’s breadth of killing him. Again. Who’s to say I won’t do that to my co-workers or my girlfriend next?” 

“Me,” she said, taking another couple of emboldened steps towards him. “And I will keep saying so until you start to believe it yourself. And so will Steve.” 

His lip curled as he snorted softly. “Then you’re both deluding yourselves.” 

“Oh, cut that out already!” she snapped. “If anyone’s deluding themselves here it’s you!” 

“I know what I’m capable of – or rather, I know that I don’t know what I’m capable of.” 

“That’s bullcrap! If you won’t seek professional help can’t you at least give yourself the benefit of the doubt?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Why not?” 

The answer stuck in his throat before he forced it out on a whisper: “Because if I let my guard down, if I let myself hurt you physically… If I did to you what I did to Steve –” As he broke off, blinking and turning his head away, the unsaid possibilities swam between them, wrapping themselves around Darcy’s chest until she wasn’t sure she could breathe. 

“Bucky… Bucky, no, you’d never…” She closed the distance between them. 

“Get her out.” 

She stopped mid-step. “What?” 

Bucky lifted his head, looking beyond her to the glass. “Get her out!” 

“What the –” The door hissed open behind her. “Seriously?” The heavy footsteps had her spinning round, one hand already going to her bra. “Stay back!” she warned. “I’ve got my Taser!” 

The guards stopped in surprise, turning to each other in confusion and mild alarm. Ignoring them, Darcy turned back to Bucky, who looked less than pleased at her actions. “Darcy,” he growled, “I don’t want you here.” 

“Well tough cookies, Hot Stuff, ‘cause I ain’t going anywhere. And you know why?” She advanced on him slowly, not caring that he was becoming increasingly agitated by her proximity. “It’s ‘cause I know you, and I know what you do when you get upset: you push people away. You force this… exile, this separation, onto yourself, because you think that’s what you deserve. Keep ‘em at arm’s length so you’ll miss if you take a swing, right? Cut all ties sooner rather than later. Well guess what, Mr Barnes;” Darcy was standing toe to toe with him, able to reach out and rest her hands on his hips. “Push and cut all you like,” she said softly, smiling naturally. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Three seconds passed in utter stillness – no breath, no sound, no flicker of movement – before Bucky let out a half-sob and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder, his only hand clutching at her side as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel the chain taught against her thigh, and wished she could convince Coulson (and Bucky himself) that it should come off. However, when she conceded that having it on might make Bucky more willing to allow others to help him, Darcy switched her attention to the next challenge facing her. 

“Mind giving us some privacy, Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee?” she called out to the guards, pleased when they actually granted her the request – although Coulson probably had something to do with that. When the closing door signalled they were ‘alone’ again, Darcy gently encouraged Bucky to join her on the floor, tucking herself under his arm when it looked as though his knees were ready to give out. Once he was sat back against the wall though, she positioned herself between his legs (resolutely ignoring the feel of the chain between hers) and loosely held his hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles and the backs of his fingers. “You look tired.” 

“Haven’t slept.” 

“How come?” 

“Couldn’t.” 

“So, wouldn’t.” 

“Shouldn’t.” 

Darcy squeezed his hand. “If there’s anything you shouldn’t be doing, it’s not sleeping, doofus. I mean, isn’t this place… kind of ideal for crazy-nightmare-inflicted ex-assassins?” She looked around. “You’ve got an easy-to-fall-out-of bed, egotistical S.H.I.E.L.D logo, armed guards outside the door – the complicatedly locked door, I might add – and no-one nearby to, y’know, accidentally strangle.” Bucky cringed slightly. “Sorry.” 

He shook his head. “No, I am.” 

“For what?” She received a ‘look’. “As far as I’m concerned, all you have to apologise for is how you’re treating yourself.” 

With a sigh, he mumbled, “You sound like Steve.” 

“Steve was in here?” 

“Not for long. He didn’t have a Taser.” 

Grinning, Darcy moved his hand up to her lips. Before she could make contact though, he pulled it away, and it was a full minute until he reluctantly let her take hold of it again. “So what did Steve have to say?” 

Bucky shifted minutely. “That he didn’t hold it against me. He’s gonna talk to Fury about what happened, and what will happen.” 

“That’s good.” He just shrugged. “Had any other visitors?” The way he looked at her was answer enough, and in that moment Darcy resolved to talk to Fury herself, then organise a party for when (‘if’, said the Jane-voice at the back of her head) Bucky was released. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

“But everyone likes parties.” 

“What?” 

Darcy blinked back into the cell. “Uh, nothing. I was just… Visitors, and cell blocks, so 'Cell Block Tango', and _Chicago_ … What did you mean?” 

There was a brief movement at the corner of his mouth, the faintest of twitches, before his eyes dropped down to their hands. “This,” he said again. “Coming here, putting yourself at risk, being… normal.” He looked up to her face. “I know you probably wanna yell at me for everything I’ve done. I do, and I wouldn’t blame you if you carried on from earlier. But you… you don’t have to stay, if it’s easier. You can go and be you without me there to hurt or upset you. Just… Thank you. For trying. And for putting up with me as long as you have. I am so, so sorry for hurting you, for scaring you. I… Whatever happens to me, I’ll always love you, Darcy.” 

Jaw slack, Darcy stared at him. The silence of the cell echoed that in her head, the seconds ticking by as slowly as her growing understanding. Even before she realised what he was ultimately saying, she shook her head jerkily and uttered a single, “No.” 

Bucky frowned. “Darcy…?” 

“No.” He was becoming a blur in front of her, and, out of a sudden terror that she really was losing him, she threw herself at his chest, her arms going around his neck again as she tried to keep them as close together as possible. “No! God, you stupid, idiotic butthead, no!” 

“Darcy, what’re you –” 

“I don’t want to lose you!” 

He tensed underneath her, then sighed deeply. “I’m an assassin, Darcy.” 

“So?” She pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve met gods. I’ve seen aliens invade New York. I’ve been chased by evil super-elves from another world. Why the hell should loving an assassin be any more dangerous than all of those things?” And in his moment of speechlessness, Darcy kissed him, deep and true and desperate if only to show him that she still cared, that she still believed he could be the Bucky Barnes he’d been before his triggering, who stood tall and laughed and teased her about anything and everything and never questioned their relationship even when it hit turbulence. And if she was crying when they broke apart, it was because he’d gently kissed her back in a perfect mimicry of their first kiss all those months ago. 

With their foreheads touching, in a frantic whisper Bucky confessed, “I’m scared to let you love me. I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t see how that’s not going to happen. Not with me.” 

Shushing him, she cupped his face, and promised: “I don’t ever want to lose you. Whatever happens, to either of us, I will always love you too.” 

***

“Professor Charles Xavier?” 

Coulson nodded. “He’s the founder of a school for people with special abilities – mutations, he calls them. The professor is one of the most powerful telepaths on our records, and is no stranger to mind manipulation. That, and he’s good with people.” 

“And Barnes has agreed to meet him?” 

“We’re not looking any further than that at the minute. If Barnes is comfortable with the professor, we’ll take it to the next level.” 

“What makes you so sure they’ll connect? Barnes isn’t exactly Mr Sociable right now.” 

His lips quirked upwards. “From what I’ve heard, Professor Xavier’s had equally challenging individuals under his tuition at the school – if not more so. He should be able to manage Barnes, and he’s hard to dislike in return.” 

Scrutinising the agent in front of him for a moment, Nick Fury closed the file on his desk and nodded once. “Alright. Get the professor to name a date so we can authorise his visit.” He stood up as Coulson collected the file. “I’ll have a word with Barnes about all this now.” 

“Uh, you might not be able to do that, sir.” 

Fury raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” 

“Agent Barnes is asleep.” 

“Finally. Who made that miracle happen, and how?” 

Coulson couldn’t keep the tiny smile off his face. “I believe someone used a new form of cognitive recalibration.”


End file.
